Children of the alley

New Site

2010-09-24T22:42:00.005+03:00

This blog is no longer active and currently under construction. Most of the visual content has now moved to www.suchitravijayan.com and

http://suchitravijayan.tumblr.com/

Thanks

Way back form Lago de Atitlán, Guatemala

2010-01-07T09:53:00.001+02:00

Way back form Lago de Atitlán, Guatemala, originally uploaded by Suchitra Vijayan.

Aborted Dialogue : Documenting War Crimes in Gaza

2009-02-12T14:02:00.000+02:00

Documenting War Crimes in GAZA -

2009-02-12T14:00:00.002+02:00

Faris 87, lost his wife , son and daughter in the Gaza offensive.

Aborted Dialogue: Documenting Life under Siege in GAZA

2009-01-18T22:37:00.010+02:00

The project seeks to document instances of War crimes committed by the IDF against civilians in GAZA, through a series of oral testimonies and photographs, particularly form children who were wounded in Israeli attacks. International law’s rules on keeping civilian casualties to a minimum are based on the distinction between "combatants" and "non-combatants", a rule that Israel as blatantly flaunted in it's military operations in Gaza.

I do not believe that my images will stop the inhumane killing or the Palestinian suffering. However I do seek to add to the Political memory of those concerned and in a small way add to the evolving Palestinian rhetoric and discourse.

Seven year old Ahmed was injured last Saturday in Gaza when he was playing out side. Ahmed's grand parents moved to Shati camp in Gaza after the 1948 Nakba.

Ahmed's bed in the Palestine hospital (Cairo), with balloons , flowers and the Palestinian Kifiya.

Umma Ahmed and her sister in law witnessed the bombing of the UNRWA school in GAZA , where they were taking shelter.

12 year old Ahmed Rasmi was wounded in his eyes by a bullet whilst playing in the streets in Gaza. He is now blinded in his right eye. He still doesn't know of his condition and that he will need an artificial eye.

Painting the office

2009-01-17T17:48:00.001+02:00

Painting the office , originally uploaded by Suchitra Vijayan.

Waiting for Godot*

2008-12-12T12:13:00.001+02:00

Father and Son rest in Amr Mosque

2008-12-08T16:20:00.000+02:00

Potraits from Fustat

2008-12-06T19:37:00.002+02:00

Comming back and a photographers bloc

2008-11-29T17:05:00.002+02:00

It has been 2 weeks since I got back to Cairo, with my New D300 and I seem to be having a photographers bloc. Rather I call it my..i cant get to use my camera bloc.

I did however photograph one of my good freinds little son. ..

I am still getting acquaited with my new D300... Hopefully have more images soon...

Call for submissions

2008-10-10T09:15:00.004+02:00

Announcement for Circulation

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

‘OTHERS’

A photo-based book about extraordinary women living in Egypt

Concept,Photography & Content by Suchitra Vijayan

Layout and Editorial Management by Ghada Kabesh

OTHERS is a photography project that will culminate in a coffee table book to be published in Egypt through an international publisher. The book will be distributed all over the world. A photography exhibition based on the Book will be held in Cairo in 2009. The book is an artistic selection of photos, minimal text and monographs that tell the story, the views, the messages of a diverse selection of extraordinary, unconventional women living in Egypt.

Who is a woman that should be in ‘OTHERS’?

- She is a resident of Egypt.

- She is a woman with a story, a vision, a dream or a message to share with the world.

- She is a woman who stands out, who does not necessarily belong to the crowd of millions of other women, yet so many other women could easily relate to her.

- She is a woman of controversy, a woman who is not afraid to portrait her uniqueness and showcases her individuality rather than hide it.

- She is a woman of a special style and has the story behind that style and character to tell.

- She likes to have her pictures taken and does is not afraid of the so called ‘imperfections’ as these are what makes her the special being that she is.

How can I submit a story or be part of this project?

If you think you are that woman or if you know a woman who could be that woman, if you want to share your story, your dream, your struggle, your desire, your success, your vision with the world, please write to us on gkabesh@gmail.com and suchitrav@gmail.com

The participation process includes:

- An initial introductory meeting to hear your story

- A second meeting to discuss photo shooting ideas, preferences and things you want to highlight most

- A schedule for an initial photo shooting

- A second photo session might be necessary

- A meeting to select your final photos and sign a model release agreement (where you state that you agree to have your pictures published in a book and used for a photography exhibition)

Please feel free to forward this email to interested receivers.

If you have any further questions or if you would like to nominate a candidate for the book, submit an idea or just share your feelings about this project, please feel free to give me a call on the below contacts.

In search of dignity

2008-09-20T19:16:00.007+02:00

Yaser Al Masry is a pro-democracy activist from Sudan. Born in Niyala (Darfur), he was active in the Student Union and helped found a number of discussion groups such as the Nebras, Sham al Naseem, Al Manar in Niyal, all of which were considered anti-government political organizations. He founded newsletters among these groups. His torture was as a result of his participation in Nebras, he was incarcerated for 35 days. He distributed these newsletters throughout all the secondary schools. So, he became well known, especially in Darfur, but in Khartoum as well. His name was widely circulated in regional newspapers in 1993 because of his participation in these groups. He was arrested 11 times and released after lobbying by international groups for his release. After this incident he became known among many political circles in Sudan. During each of these encarcerations, he underwent torture, and many of his medical problems now are a result of this torture because in addition to physical torture, they would feed him toxic materials.

Fleeing persecution , Yaser sought refuge in Egypt and registered with the UNHCR, Cairo. He has been followed in Egypt by the government of Sudan since he arrived. At a Christmas party 2007 in 6th of October, government hired and directed groups kidnapped him and beat him for six days.

In April 2007 he was first diagnosed with hemorrhoids, and recommended that he be operated on for his hemorrhoids for a "Hemorrhoid Operation for Anal Fissure." He was given this diagnosis without an examination, and the doctor told him that he had this problem because he "didn't clean himself." Having no money, he did not undergo treatment. But was instead given two injections one for anesthesia and one for widening his anus because he had been constipated. On July 7th 2007, it was suspected that he had colon cancer. He was scheduled to come in to have the operation about 7-10 days before July 30th. He was in a common room with people with non-urgent cases. He stayed for two days in this waiting room where people were smoking. After two days of waiting, he left and returned on July 30th and paid 4,500 LE for a private room. They initially paid 3000LE, but they said that if they did not pay the remaining 1500LE, they would not bring the blood for the operation. They were planning to operate on him that day, but later he found out that they were planning to perform the wrong operation intended for another person. Even after he paid for the private room, they would not let his wife stay with him. He was operated on August 1st during which he removed 35 centimeters of the colon and the rectum. The tumor had extended to 25 cm, and cut 5 cm on each side. He endured chemotherapy from August 2007 until April 2008. During this period, the Caritas doctor had him sign that he had received chemotherapy treatments months before he had actually received them. In January 2008, the chemotherapy was discontinued for two weeks because he lacked funds. He received all of his chemotherapy in a clinic, not a hospital. So, he received his treatments in an hour, as opposed to the eight hour sessions they usually take.

Reapeated attempts to get the UNHCR to resettle him as a Medicial Emergency failed. Individual medical emergency requests were submitted to various embassies. When all hope was about to run out. In what can be called only as a miracle, Mr Al Masry was granted a Emergency Medical Visa to India to be treated.

Yaser's story is one of courage and a fight for human dignity. This blog is a tribute to the resilence of human spirit.....

Morning After

2008-09-07T13:33:00.003+02:00

When I returned from so many journeys,I stayed suspended and greenbetween sun and geography -I saw how wings worked,how perfumes are transmittedby feathery telegraph,and from above I saw the path,the springs and the roof tiles,the fishermen at their trades,the trousers of the foam;I saw it all from my green sky.I had no more alphabetthan the swallows in their courses,the tiny, shining waterof the small bird on firewhich dances out of the pollen. Pablo Neruda

Cairo, gets ready for Ramadan

2008-09-01T17:34:00.002+02:00

Cairo, gets ready for Ramadan, originally uploaded by Suchitra Vijayan.

Alley way , next my new house

2008-08-23T11:24:00.003+03:00

Alley way , next my new house, originally uploaded by Suchitra Vijayan.

My first six months have come to an end. This is also the begining of the end of phase in my life.
I moved out of my expensive 3 bedroom apartment in Mohindeseen to a smaller one in Downtown. This was shot in one of the Alley ways nest to my house.

A necessary exorcism

2008-08-22T22:38:00.002+03:00

For decades now, the zar has been seen as a backward form of psychological healing, in which music, notably drums, helps drive out the djinn from the bodies of the patients. The zar mistress, known as a kodia, is seen as an ignorant person who pretends to dabble in magic to further mercenary ends.

Nil'in funeral procession

2008-07-31T23:07:00.002+03:00

"Being Palestinian, political opinion is forced upon me" certain Palestinian friend told me during one of our conversations. Then it was a political conversation, being in West bank it takes a very different connotation.

Children who were friends with the 10 year old 10 year Ahmed Ussam Yusef Mousa, were a part of the funeral procession that took place yesterday. Emotions have been running high in the village since the funeral.

29th July :10-Year old shot dead at Nil’in

2008-07-30T20:53:00.000+03:00

at the funeral procession in Nil'in

A 10 year old boy called Ahmed Ussam Yusef Mousa was shot dead at approximately 6pm near the Palestinian village of Nil’in. He was shot once in the head at close range with live ammunition. According to eye witnesses a group of youths attempted to remove coils of razor wire from land belonging to the village. Without warning, they were fired upon and Ahmed was killed.

Ahmed was taken from the hospital in Ramallah to Nil'in today. His body was carried in a procession and climate in Nil'in is tense.

Day 10 -Dheisha refugee camp

2008-07-28T13:35:00.000+03:00

Day 9 - Susya

2008-07-26T22:15:00.000+03:00

Evicted from their original houses in Susya , they now live in make shifts tents near the land that once belonged to them

This area is inhabited by a small Palestinian population of approximately 2,000 pastoralist herders and farmers living in caves carved out of the mountainside. Their way of life is unique in Palestine, perhaps in the Middle East. They have survived by farming the rocky hillsides and tending their flocks for at least 170 years. Anthropologists have studied these cave-dwellers and a published monograph exists describing their culture. We feel that as scholars and humanists we have an obligation to do whatever we can to protect them from extinction. Hence this personal appeal to you as a member of the international scholarly community.

Today, the homes, fields, and way of life of the south Hebron cave-dwellers are under existential threat. Israeli settlers have established a string of settlements and illegal outposts in this area and seek to annex the land in the immediately foreseeable future. The Jewish settlers of Susya, Maon, Yatir, and other places in the Hebron hills are among the most militant and violent in the occupied territories, and they have turned the lives of the Palestinian cave-dwellers into a nightmare.

With support from the Israeli Defense Force (IDF) and Civil Administration, the settlers have systematically destroyed nearly 80% of the Palestinian's cave-homes, in some cases going so far as to poison their wells. In most cases, even simple agricultural work, such as sowing the fields or harvesting the crops, has become impossible; settlers and soldiers terrorize the Palestinian families and chase them at gunpoint from the fields. Indeed, several of the cave-dwellers have even been shot by these militants. In most cases, the IDF and Civil Administration have turned a blind eye to these crimes.

Recently the cave-dwellers were informed that the Israeli government intends to permanently expel them from their villages and seize their lands. The threat is real, credible, and immediate.

We, a coalition of organizations in the Israeli peace movement, are trying to prevent this from happening. A legal battle in the Israeli courts has temporarily granted these people the right to remain on their land. However, there are now indications that the Israeli High Court of Justice will soon issue a decision that allows the IDF to evict the Palestinians and seize their land.

Day 7: Ramallah to Jerusalem- Qalandiya Checkpoint

2008-07-25T12:13:00.000+03:00

By the check point

The Aparthied wall by the Qalandiya Checkpoint in Ramallah .

Wailing Wall

2008-07-24T13:10:00.000+03:00

Wailing Wall (Arabic: il-Mabka‎), in connection with Jewish practice of coming to the site to mourn the destruction of the Holy Temple.

Day - 5

2008-07-23T12:56:00.000+03:00

I went to the Dome of the Rock and took a touristy picture. Walked around with a sulk !!!

NO DONUTS or Pictures today

Day 4 - Hebron

2008-07-21T21:07:00.000+03:00

Since early 1997, following the Hebron Agreement, the city has been divided into two sectors: H1 and H2. The H1 sector, home to around 120,000 Palestinians, came under the control of the Palestinian Authority, in accordance with Hebron Protocol. H2, which was inhabited by around 30,000 Palestinians,remained under Israeli military control in order to protect some 800-900 Jewish residents living in the old Jewish quarter, now an enclave near the center of the town. During the years since the outbreak of the Second Intifada, the Palestinian population in H2 has decreased greatly, the drop in large part having been identified with extended curfews and movement restrictions placed on Palestinian residents of the sector by the IDF for security needs, including the closing of Palestinian shops in certain areas. Settler harassment of their Palestinian neighbours in H2 was a reason for several dozen Palestinian families to depart the areas adjacent to the Israeli population. Source: Relief Web

On the streets of Old market road in Hebron. Israeli soldiers regularly make rounds in the H1 part of the town.

Little Palestinian girl stands on the roof of her house, with the Israli settlement in the background.

Writings on the wall (H2 section of the town, under Israeli military control)

Writing on the wall (H1 section of the town), under Palestinian Authority.

Day 2 - Al-Arroub (refugee camp), West Bank (Living under occupation )

2008-07-19T23:29:00.000+03:00

Arroub camp was established in 1950 on 350 dunums, 15 kilometers south of Bethlehem. Located on the main Hebron-Jerusalem road, the camp is still witnessing sporadic clashes with the Israeli army. (Source: UNRWA)

Most walls in West Bank are used as a message board for political messages / martyr proclamations and pro Palestine slogans. Children grow up with a strong sense of "occupation", often reinforced by the strong presence of the Israeli defence forces.

In the image the children are photographed playing on the streets of Al-Arroub camp, with the political slogan supporting PFLP (Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine) and martyr faces printed on the wall.

2008-07-19T00:03:00.001+03:00

I guess I am not really that Lazy : My Israel Blog :)
http://israelimagediary.blogspot.com/

Day 1 - Jersualem

2008-07-18T20:25:00.000+03:00

It was quite the surprise to see this on the wall when walking along Via Dolorosa. Wallahi! I swear I dint do this myself. But a surprising welcome on my first day in Jerusalem

I saw this old man sitting outside the Imperial hotel last night when I walked through Jaffa gate. He was still there today morning. He looked like a statue that needed dusting. Built in 1880, the Imperial Hotel was the most Luxurious hotel in Jerusalem. Now I am told by my guide book that the once elegant hotel has now shifted into seediness!

Scarf shop in Muslim Qaurter in Jerusalem.

Ultra Orthodox jews pray during sun set on Sabath

No activity

2008-07-16T12:18:00.003+03:00

I wont be posting anything in this blog the next few weeks. I will be in Israel for three weeks travelling and when I am back I will resume my posting.

I have left my ridiculously large apartment and moved into more sensible accommodation in downtown Cairo. I am already looking forward to photographing my new neighbourhood and its residents. (There is always something to look forward to in life)

I am considering starting a new blog for Israel !!! The operative word being "considering". Or justpost things here , if my laziness takes over. I will be available on mail and gtalk.

Masalama,

Ard el Lewa, by night

2008-07-12T16:26:00.003+03:00

On the way back from the Eritrean restaurant in Ard el Lewa around 11, there was street festival just warming up. The neon light, music blaring and men getting ready to socialise. Chaos!

For my sister lolly-pop

2008-07-09T13:50:00.006+03:00

This picture was forwarded to me by Kholoud. It is a campaign to encourage women to cover themselves.

The caption on the top read the following " You cant stop them. But you can protect yourself. The God who made you knows what's best for you"

Least I could say was that both me and Kholoud had a disgusted look in our face when we saw this. I personally wanted to find out who came up with this "brilliant' campaign, so I could vanquish him (them). For the sake of women in Egypt and aesthetics. Khalas Yanni !! I am fed up with the veil debate. Give the women the choice and get on with it!!

Pyramids finally

2008-07-07T21:30:00.002+03:00

After living in Cairo for over 5 months I finally made it to the Pyramids of Giza. It wasn't what I thought it would be. You expect a sense of awe and you are waiting for and it never arrives. It was not the monument , but that circus that happens around the monument that completely destroys the experience. A metro and a expensive taxi ride later we reached the side entrance to the Pyramids. July heat in Cairo was at its worst and when I stepped into the pyramid complex after getting the tickets and I wasn't sure if I was feeling lighted headed because of the sun or the view. For now I will assume it is the view.

A throne made of a trunk

2008-07-06T19:59:00.001+03:00

Street , Cairo

2008-06-27T10:38:00.002+03:00

Old man and the roofhouse

2008-06-24T14:36:00.003+03:00

a continuation from the previous post.... Yacoubian building - Life on the roof top...

This is one of the roof top houses , in Reida's building. In the heart of downtown Cairo, the old man lives by himself in this little make shift room on top of the building. He came home when we were trying to photograph Reida. Hundreds of thousands of Egyptians who flooded into Cairo during an economic boom in the 1970s had no money to rent an apartment, and instead set up houses on the city’s rooftops. Egyptians living in impoverished downtown rooftops try to make best of uncomfortable situation. Some Cairo roof-dwellers enjoy makeshift toilets, standpipes, even baths. For others, there is no running water and little protection from scorching summer sun or winter rains. . This old man had a telephone line and electricity to run a small electric fan. He belongs to a ’sub-class’, the luckier one who can rely for water, toilets, electricity and a telephone line on the hospitality of better endowed neighbours in flats ‘below'

Yacaoubian Building : Life on the roof top

2008-06-23T17:53:00.009+03:00

Rieda has a gorgeous apartment in the 6th floor in the heart of down town Cairo. Kholoud and I were on the fire escape talking , when she pointed to the kids playing on the roof tops of one of the near by building. We both brought up the The Yacoubian Building reference. Yacoubian Building is one of the most talked about modern Egyptian novels. For the sake of completeness I am quoting the following paragraph from wikipedia

"The novel described the Yacoubian Building as one of the most luxurious and prestigious apartment blocks in Cairo following its construction by Armenian businessman Hagop Yacoubian in 1934, with government ministers, wealthy manufacturers, and foreigners residing or working out of offices there. After the military-backed coup in 1952, which overthrew King Farouk and eventually resulted in the installation of Gamal Abdel Nasser as President of Egypt, many of the rich foreigners, as well as native landowners and businessmen (including Jews), who had lived at the Yacoubian fled the country. Each vacated apartment was then occupied by a military officer and his family, who were often of a more rural background and lower social caste than the previous residents.

On the roof of the ten-story building are fifty small rooms (one for each apartment), no more than two meters by two meters in area, which were originally used as storage areas and not as living quarters for human beings, but after wealthy residents began moving from downtown Cairo to suburbs such as Medinet Nasr and El Mohandiseen in the 1970's, the rooms were gradually taken over by overwhelmingly poor migrants from the Egyptian countryside, arriving in Cairo in the hopes of finding employment. The rooftop community, effectively a slum neighbourhood, is symbolic of the urbanization of Egypt and of the burgeoning population growth in its large cities in recent decades, especially among the poor and working classes."

The roof top community can be found at their vibrant best , in the evening when the women come out for a communal chat and the children run around the roof playing. It was this scene that we saw from our fire escape. Ten floors above the dirt and din of Cairo’s streets, the children enjoy the evening breeze that sweeps over the one-room clapboard room where their families live. Cairo was never a city designed to bear this population. The roof tops that bear signs of Cairo's swelling population and a terrible damage of unmanaged urbanisation.

"Others" : A series on women in Egypt

2008-06-21T14:13:00.004+03:00

Bread Line

2008-06-21T13:13:00.003+03:00

All Egyptians can buy the cheap government subsidised bread under a decades old socialist-inspired system that also provides subsidies for public transport and gasoline.
As unsubsidized bread can sell at 10 to 12 times the cost of government bread -- becomes unaffordable for a portion of the population the demand for government bread is growing.

At the same time the supplies of subsidized bread have also decreased. The population is jaded and many people believe that corruption is behind the shortages. Rumors circulate that subsidized bakeries would rather sell their flour on the black market than use it to produce bread. People have no choice but to wait in line to buy government bread.

Across Egypt this year, people have waited in line for hours at bakeries that sell government-subsidized bread, sign of a growing crisis food shortage. In 1977, a government move to lift the subsidies on bread sparked the only mass popular uprising in Egypt in the past half-century, including fiery street protests that left more than 70 people dead. It was popularly known as the bread revolution. Anwar Sadat, who was president at the time, quickly restored the subsidies.

One of the causes of the crisis is beyond the government's control. Wheat prices worldwide have more than doubled in the past year, spurred by increased demand, rising fuel costs and bad weather. Globally, food prices climbed by nearly one-fourth between 2006 and 2007, according to the U.N. Food and Agriculture Organization. Egypt is the world's second-largest importer of wheat.

More on the Bread Shortage @ Bread, the (subsidized) stuff of life in Egypt

UNHCR alarmed over reports of forcible returns of Eritreans from Egypt

2008-06-19T15:18:00.000+03:00

Thursday, 19 June 2008

UNHCR alarmed over reports of forcible returns of Eritreans from Egypt

GENEVA - The UN refugee agency is very alarmed over consistent reports of ongoing, forcible returns of Eritrean asylum-seekers from Egypt despite appeals from UNHCR to refrain from any return of asylum seekers until the agency had access to detention centres to determine their claims for international protection.

UNHCR appeals to the Egyptian authorities to urgently provide information on the current location and well-being of some 1,400 Eritreans and other persons of concern to UNHCR, whose names and detention locations had previously been shared by the authorities. UNHCR also requests prompt and unhindered access to all persons seeking asylum currently in detention.

UNHCR strongly appeals to the Egyptian government to maintain its traditional generous asylum policy and respect its obligations under the
1951 Refugee Convention to which it is a signatory. One of the key principles of the Convention is the prohibition against refoulement, or forcibly returning individuals to their country of origin where they could face persecution or a threat to their lives.

Earlier this week, Egypt announced it would grant UNHCR's office in Cairo access to Eritreans in detention with a view to determining their status. On Monday, a UNHCR team visited two detention centers in Aswan in southern Egypt - Shalal and Nasr Al Nouba - to review and prepare arrangements for refugee status determination. They met 142 Eritreans and 19 Ethiopians. Earlier credible reports indicated the number of detained asylum seekers in Aswan Governorate to be much higher. UNHCR teams also went to other detention locations in Egypt but were unable to obtain access. In some instances they were asked to bring specific permission from prison authorities, while at other locations they were informed by the authorities that Eritrean asylum-seekers were no longer present.

Egypt has seen a surge of Eritreans entering the country illegally in recent months from Sudan or directly from Eritrea across the Red Sea. In late February, the Egyptian authorities suspended UNHCR's access to asylum seekers in detention. Since then, UNHCR has been in continuous contact with relevant authorities asking for access to detained asylum seekers.

END

For further information on this topic, please contact Abeer Etefa in Cairo on +20 2 383 55 801/2/3 or +20 12 74 1 33 91 (mobile) or in Geneva, Astrid Van Genderen Stort on +41 22 739 8364 or +41 79 217 31 72
(mobile)

The following link will take you to the above:
www.unhcr.org/press-releases

Media Relations & Public Information Service UNHCR HQPI00 P.O. Box 2500
CH-1211 Geneva 2

Tel: 41 22 739 8502
Fax: 41 22 739 7314
Email: hqpi00@unhcr.org
Website: www.unhcr.org

Street series , Cairo

2008-06-14T15:25:00.007+03:00

First shot

Before Lunch

Poverty in Egypt is subtle. It is not on your face. But still evidence lingers , especially around streets like Mohamed Mahoud , which is home to global fast food chains like KFC, McDonalds and Pizza Put. You can often see children sitting outside these fast food chains. I usually refrain from photographing poverty, but today as I walked past Hardee's the kid to the right asked me for money, instead I got them meals from Mc Donalds (I am not promoting Mcdee's. I am last person to endorse it. But I really dint have much a choice between KFC and McDonalds). When I was about to leave the child in the middle wanted to get his picture taken and all three sat together and smiled for me.

I have promised to print the picture for them soon and they have promised to keep an eye out for me.

night scene, cairo

2008-06-13T20:22:00.001+03:00

2 mothers wait with their children, outside a pharmacy in downtown, Cairo

Street Scene, City of the Dead (Cairo)

2008-06-09T12:21:00.004+03:00

When genes skipped 2 generations

2008-06-07T22:41:00.005+03:00

I went back to City of the dead in the evening to give pictures to the people I had previously photographed in the neighbourhood. Ali the owner of a tea shop was happy to see his photograph and summoned his daughter - in- laws to bring his grand children. He wanted me to photograph them together. He was a proud grand father showing off his legacy. His grand children looked nothing like him. While he had aristocratic features , coloured by sun and work , his grand children both had deep blue eyes of the Nile.

After I had finished taking some frames, he summoned tea , coffee and hibiscus tea and pampered me with some good old Eastern hospitality.

When it was time to leave , he refused to let me pay and with the qudafis , I promised to return with the printed images for him.

:)

Difficult Daughter

2008-06-07T16:32:00.014+03:00

Why did you start Lines of Grey ? asks a certain journalist and I give him the answer I have given all the journalists who have wanted to write about Lines of Grey in the last few months. I have tried my best in the last six months to convince the importance of projects like Lines of Grey and the importance of giving children a open space to contemplate , think and be themselves. Lines of Grey is my child and I am like a passionate mother who cares and nurtures her child and hopes to see it grow into something phenomenal one day. For an effort like Lines of Grey to grow and become something , it needs the collective help of the society. A society that thinks of children as our greatest intellectual investment and gives their dreams a stage.

During my interactions with journalists who have written about LOG, very few have seen it as I do. To many it was a nothing more than story to fill their next feature. But this interview was a little different. "Tell me Suchitra , what makes you so passionate about alternate and informal form of education for children ? Was there an event from your own childhood that made you feel so strongly about this?." The question stopped me in my tracks for a moment. I had never thought of Lines of Grey that way. I had never once made the connection between my own childhood and the creation of Lines of Grey. Memories from a very long ago came rushing back and tears swelled in my eyes. I was saved by the fact that the interview was over the telephone and I excused myself and ended the interview.

Had my childhood and what I had been through as a child , made me start LOG? I had never made that connection , but the more I thought about it , it was evident that my child hood had played a significant role in shaping my ideas on children, education, power of resilience of childhood and how faith can transform a child's life. I have never shared this story before and only the ones closets to me know of this. But after 15 years of living with it , I have decided that it is time to share a few leaves from the book of my life.

My resume today reads like this " Suchitra Vijayan graduated with LLB and European Union law (Hons) in 2004 and qualified as a Barrister with the Honourable Society of Inner Temple. Since then she has worked with the United Nations War Crimes Tribunal for former Yugoslavia and the War Crimes Tribunal for Rwanda. She is currently working with African and Middle Eastern Refugee Assistance (AMERA), Cairo as a Legal Advisor and is the founder of the Arts and Advocacy based NGO "Lines of Grey". Suchitra is also an awarding wining photographer and aspiring writer."

Sometimes when I read the above description , it feels unreal. The words seem to talk of some one else , some one every different from me. Sometimes I can not fathom how gracious life has been to me. No on who had know me 10 years ago would have predicted this for me. I was at best considered an average student , with nothing remarkable about her. I was expected to fail in most avenues of educational pursuit and fade into ordinariness of daily life. I was always the loner , even as child I felt like I was an island. Going to school was a ordeal, where no one spoke to me or wanted be my friend. My teachers dint make life any easier. I was bored and felt unengaged and this immediately interpreted to be a certain slowness on my part. I was constantly picked on by teachers and fellow students alike. I was told I would fail even before I would start solving a sum or try to spell a word. Making a 5 year old first grader to go up in front of the class and solve sums in the black board can be a life changing experience. Once the child fails in that endeavour the child is immediately relegated to being the academic out cast and a subconscious academic segregation begins. I was a victim of this segregation from the very begining and going to school became a dreaded affair. If adults had their own standards to judge you , children had their own.

By the time was 10, I my status as an academic paraya was confirmed. I sat by self in the last bench and had very little interaction with other students. Unless they were openly discussing how weird I was. I stopped talking to everyone at school , I stopped bother with school work , I really dint see the point. I hated the school curriculum , I dint see the point in geometry or the fascination in science. But I liked English literature and history, subject I read with some amount of interest. Even then there was an inherent contradiction. I liked English, especially poetry and but still made umpteen number of spelling mistakes. My favourite time pass was sitting by my self and writing or making up stories in my head. Then one day, in class my disgruntled science teacher looked at my science work book, read it and flung it at me. She openly declared that I spelt like a 5 year old, other children in the class laughed and I stood there humiliated. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. Then it was followed byTamil period where I was reprimanded again for having a bad handwriting. After that day I stopped writing my little stories and instead started thinking them up in my head and keeping it there. The incident changed something else, before I would make an effort to do well in the exams. But after that nothing mattered, I was convinced that I was good for nothing and stopped trying. I dint want to be at school or go back home. I would stay back in school and sit by its old Gulmohar tree and come home at 5.00.

Then the half yearly came that year and I had failed in three subjects and barely passed in 2. My father was summoned and told that if I did not pull my act together by the end of the year , the school would have to let go of me. My father came home and dint say much and my mother was deeply upset. What was she going to do ? what would happen if her daughter couldn't mange even a high school education. I sat in our dinning table my head down with shame and listened to my mothers torment and my dads efforts to pacify her. I was 10 and I was already being exposed to the terrible scar , the feeling of shame can leave in a person. I felt I had disappointed my parents by being a child who , had failed academically. My worth as an individual was determined by the report card I had brought home and not by the potential of what I was capable of.

Ideas of getting a tuition teacher was discussed , but my mother felt that something wasn't right. She believed strongly that her child was not a stupid or dumb, she wanted to find out what was really wrong. Then that started the process of taking me to one doctor after another. My father thought I was fine , but at best needed an alternative mode of study. My mother was the one who took me to the doctors and her face always in anguish as if she was waiting for the dreaded pronouncement that something was indeed wrong with me, while I sat there feeling ever more disillusioned.

Then the D Day arrived, I was referred to a Neuro psychologist this time. My mother took me to a small consulting office where a kind gentle man with a warm smile sat. He asked me a lot of questions and made me do puzzles after puzzles. Then I was told to sit outside while, my mother was called in. I sat out side and could hear what was being said inside. My mother was in tears, she was deeply worried for me and my future. What was she going to do with me, what kind of a future will I have without an education. " I just want her to pass her 10th grade" I could hear a desperate plea in her voice. I sat out side with tears in my eyes, I had never felt so worthless in my life. When my peers were making their parents proud with their achievements , I had brought this pain and suffering on my mother. I wiped my tears and sat there. Words and noises faded away. I dint know how long I sat outside. Then the doctor came out smiling and asked me to come in. I was told I had dyslexia and that it was a learning disability. Fifteen years back there was no Taare Zameen Par to spread awareness about Dyslexia in India. At best it was thought of as an mental disorder. The Doctor reassured my mother and said "Suchi is very gifted , Mrs Vijayan. She has an more than above average IQ of 135. She just needs help figuring out a few things." For the first time in my life I was treated as a smart individual. I was told I was more than capable , that all I needed was a little help.

From then on my life changed. I was told that I was different but special. Dyslexia is not a disease, it was a disability. My brain was wired differently than others. I saw the world differently because of this, I had to learn a different methods of learning. The Doctor patiently explained to me that , this was something I would have to live with all my life. But I can train my mind and intelligence was after all a habit.The next few years I changed and grew as a person exponentially. I was taught skills that would help me learn better and that suited my style. What I had once perceived as an mammoth exercise , now looked easier. I took the Doctors words seriously and started reading anything and everything I would lay my hands on.

At school I started performing better. The habit of reading soon , became a love affair. I realised that I did not read books to train my mind , but I truly enjoyed the reading and soon found a deep love for the process of narrative discovery. When my class mates were introduced to Wordsworth, I was already reading Khalil Gibran and Communist Ideology. Now with minimal effort I was doing well at school. Finally in grade 8, I scored 95 in a math exam. After that I lost all respect for the educational system. I learnt that my grades were not a reflection of my intelligence , but a body of knowledge prone to manipulation by tactics.

I was still on the periphery of social acceptance in my school. Then one day I singed up for the middle school debate and was actually given a place in the debating team. I prepared for a week. Every day before my shower , I stood in front of the mirror and practised my speech. I rehearsed and researched the topic. On the day of the debate I felt confident. I went to my class room and left my bag and started to head to school general assembly where the debate was about to start. Then a moron in my class made a comment that they had made a mistake in selecting a failure like me for the debate and he was going to be there to cheer when I stammered and made a fool of my self. Children can be such heartless bullies. I ran to the toilet and cried for a few minutes. Then I wiped my tears and told my self I will show them, I will show everyone who ever thought I was a failure. The teacher in charge of the Debate was frantically looking for me and then was relieved to see me walk towards her. She squeezed my had and said all the best. I walked over and took my position on stage. I was feeling a strange emotion. I wasn't afraid , but I felt an exhilarating experience of being in front of the school audience and I wanted to express myself and ideas. My turn finally came and I spoke. The whole speech was a trance. Then when I finished I stood there and the applause broke my trance. I smiled, I had done it. I had done something I was proud of for the first time in my life. My debate team lost, but I was awarded the best speaker award. I was happy when I went home and told my mother. She smiled and hugged me. It was a small achievement on my part, but I had so badly wanted to show my mother that I was done something and I wanted her to be truly proud of me. I desperately wanted validation.

As the cliche' goes I never looked back. After that I never lost another debate. Tides were beginning to turn. I became curious and aware of the world. I was never hassled with my grade after that. My mother knew my limitation and constraints. Despite that my parents never stopped expecting the very best out of me. The tides had turned, I was no longer the under achiever, I had transformed from the kids who failed three subjects to a straight A student. When I turned 15, my relation with my parents changed again. They started treating me as an adult. Everyday in the morning my father would drive me to school and those 20 minute in the morning became my true education. He would discuss with me interesting articles that were featured on the news paper, give me his insights into art , literature , philosophy and politics. If my dad became my intellectual guide, my mother was my moral core. My mother was my pillar and to this day she continues to be the standard I set for my self. She could have given up on me and agreed with everyone who ever said I was not fit for academic pursuits. But her unshakable belief that was child had potential , made all the difference in the world.

If the people in my life had not given me a chance I would not be here. For all the ones who refused to give me a chance , I had a few people who believed in me and let me grow. They gave me the space to be who I was. After school I decided to leave India to study in England. I have always had the time, space , freedom and trust from my parents to experiment with my life do the things I wanted. The greatest gift they gave me was the gift to be my self and let me make my own mistakes. My mistakes have sometimes hurt them and sometimes caused great angst. But it was in letting me make those mistakes that they let me become a better individual. Over all those years when I was trying negotiate an identity and trying to define the ground I stood on, my parents stood by me.

I qualified as a Barrister when I was 21 in 2005. I still remember the call I made to my parents. It was 11 in the morning in London when I dialed my land line in Madras. My mother picked up the phone and I could hear her warm voice going " Suchi ma ". That's what she called me and in the years I spent away from home since I was 16 it was this voice that made me feel at home , no matter where I was. But that day I could sense a little nervousness in her voice. She knew this was the day , I received the results for my British Bar exam. A year of British Bar had been an excruciating experience for me. I was barely 20 when I joined the BVC and I was competing with others much older and wiser than me. When moments of doubts would surface , I would call my mother and she would reassure me that I was capable and it would get better. It did get better and the last months before the final set of exams I spent hours in the library cramming. I think despite all her reassurances, I knew she was worried for me, she wanted the best for me and more than the exam results, she wanted to protect me from being crushed emotionally if I hadn't done well.

" I passed ma , I passed ma" . This was the moment that she had waited for all these years. Me becoming a Barrister had different relevance to my father and mother. To my father it was his first physical evidence of an intellectual legacy he will leave behind. His daughter had chose to become a Lawyer just like him and she had made him proud. But for my mother it was something else. From a child who the Indian education system had rejected as being dumb and not academic material , I had gone on to achieve something remarkable. All those hours she had spent in doctors waiting, worried sick about her child's future , had now paid off.

But despite all of this I never became completely free of my insecurities. I would always feel the need to prove to the world , that i was not that stupid kid who was humiliated in class. But there was something more to me. I have struggled with who I truly was and what I have become. I have never given my self the freedom to be happy or enjoy the small success in my life. I have been driven by the need to constantly prove to the world , that I am someone of worth. The reason I have now come to understand is the fear of becoming the humiliated 5 year old and I have carried that fear with me for over a decade now.

Since qualifying as a Barrister in 2005, I have lived a nomadic life moving from one continent to the other. Over those years I picked up photography and am now learning the craft of being a writer. I have come finally accept my disability as a gift. I see the world and think differently , because of my disability. I have come to realise that I can never just be a Lawyer and live a 9-5 life. I need to be so many different thing and have to done many layers to quench my thirst for life.

Finally I decided to live and work in Africa sometime in 2007. I am in a phase in my life where I am teaching myself to let go of the insecurities that were thrust upon me as a child. Starting Lines of Grey was my way of reaching out the child hood of every child that needs protection and nurturing; a time when they are taught to love and respect themselves. Now by working with children I am learning to own my childhood.

If there is one thing I want people to take away from this, it is this. If you treat children as what you see them , they will always under perform. But if you treat them as what they are capable of coming they will always raise up to the occasion.

Suchitra , 7th June 2008
Cairo

Guns for smokes

2008-06-03T22:17:00.002+03:00

Location : Talat Harb , Cairo

2008-06-03T22:01:00.004+03:00

It is vain and self indulgent ..... but I haven't taken a picture of my self this year that I like .. (sob - sob).

So I am busy pointing my camera before a mirror ...

Suchitra vijayan
Location: over priced cafe in Dokki

Living Ghosts

2008-06-01T11:43:00.001+03:00

Just for laughs-1

2008-05-30T23:45:00.002+03:00

Just for laughs-1, originally uploaded by La Moreneta.

SIWA

2008-05-27T18:14:00.005+03:00

It is forbidden to photograph women in Siwa, so my images in this blog are a kind of visual blasphemy. The image above was shot in the old town or the fortress city of Shali - the ancient fortress of Siwa, built of natural rock, salt and mud-brick, now mostly abandoned. But some still continue to reside behind these ancient walls. For me the image is a visual representation of the princess who sits in her tower in a fortress.
Even today one seldom sees a woman in the streets of Siwa, and almost never in town. She drifts past like a phantom in her milayah, or sits with her children on a donkey cart. Private and public spaces are divided by gender, women continue to stay at home and take care of the home, while men are the literally the bread winners. Their engagement with the outside world out side their family and female friends is almost non existent.

I still haven't articulated my thoughts on what I feel about the women of Siwa , but I am refraining from being a proponent of cultural relativism or making a feminist pronouncement of society I know nothing off.

Pronouncement : My thoughts on this are still work in progress
LOCATION: Siwa Oasis.

No name Cafe

2008-05-26T23:40:00.004+03:00

The bus stopped somewhere between Marsa Matru and Siwa , in a cafe in the middle of no where. Brightly painted yellow walls ,trimmed with blue and cane chairs all put together like a little toy and placed in the middle of the Western dessert.

Most passengers rushed to use the toilet, while other sat down for a cup of tea or coffee; few locals sat and watched the time go by with utter disinterest. I wondered what it must be like to wait in the middle of no where , for the bus to bring strangers to your cafe - who leave after using the basic amenities. This was just another transit place amongst the hundreds such hotels , motels and drive bys on the way to a destination and when the bus leaves there would be silence again in the middle of the dessert

I paid 4 Egyptian pounds for a cup of bad tea , I was about leave the place with a bad taste in my mouth , but instead took a walk and found writing on the back of the cafe wall.

Finally the C cola advertisement caught my attention. It wasn't until the late 80's that the road connecting Siwa to the rest of the country was cemented and it took commerce quite some time to reach this part of the world. Even if clean water and electricity, haven't still reached this part of the world in full measure , the Coca Cola add seems have.

2008-05-26T22:16:00.006+03:00

Location: Mou aff gaded (New bus station ) Alexandria

Children Of the Alley : A Lines of Grey Project

2008-05-20T00:07:00.002+03:00

I am trying different ideas for the Lines of Grey : Cairo Project images :)...

Critique , comments and insults welcome.

Freshly Ground for the Nakba

2008-05-17T16:42:00.006+03:00

The Spring Festival organized by Al Mawred Al Thaqafy, in co-operation with Cairo Opera House, Sakiat Al Sawy, the Arts Centre of the Bibliotheca Alexandrina, the Egyptian Centre for Arts and Culture (Makan) and the British Council, presents a wide range of the most important modern Arabic creative experiences in music and poetry. The Spring festival features a series of musical performances , art and literature workshops both in Cairo and Beirut. The festival this year commemorates the Palestine's 60th anniversary of the Nakba.

So on a sightly cold Friday evening along with a few friends I headed to the Al- Azar park to listen to a little known South African band performing as a part of the festival.

Light !! The musicians step on stage and it only takes everyone present a few minute to realise that this was going to be one explosive performance. The bands lead singer Zolani Mahola moved the audience with her incredible voice , passion , energy and wit.

She is not Beyonce , only she is better - with velvet voice and a rare magnetism - she is by far one of the most beautiful women I have seen. When singing her song Pot Belly she pointed to her own full figure, little tummy and said I like it this way. Then she starts singing ...

Even though I have fat thighs flabby arms a pot belly ... still gives me good

Fantastic! After an overdose of skinny untalented - half naked women on music channels - It was high time the Music market made way for truly remarkable women singers whose only asset is her larynx and spirit. I cant remember the last live performance that left such a deep impact on me.

They are my new favourite band and for those into contemporary world much check them out at http://www.freshlyground.com/

Nat, Such and Gerber

2008-05-16T17:38:00.004+03:00

I usually refrain from posting personal images on the blog. Since I haven't shoot anything worth posting in the last couple of days I decided to post this picture of me and my house mates.

To the left is Natalie or Nat as she would like to be called - is the vivacious Australian, with an appetite for life.
To my right is my cool Swiss German house mate Martina, and in the middle is your truly.

Between the three of us we have 3 continents and a 100 other uniqueness covered.

They are an integral part of my Cairene experience. We meet on the first day we landed in Cairo and soon became house mates and fast friends..

We have been through collapse of our old apartment, being homeless and much much more.

Its always an anomaly watching the three of us on the streets of Cairo, an Australian brunet, a Swiss blonde and a Indian chick. Most reactions start and end with perplexity and the most creative of them yell spice girls as we walk by ..:D

Spice girls we are ..

By the church of Abu Serga

2008-05-10T00:55:00.006+03:00

Church of Abu Serga is tucked quietly inside old Cairo. Old Cairo is the oldest part of Cairo, and in fact, pre-dates what is now Cairo. Unlike the noise and the general chaos of Islamic Cairo , this part of the town was clam and rustic.

Chruch Abu Serga which legend has it is built atop one of the sites where the Holy Family (Jesus et all)rested on their flight from Herod.

After arriving 45 minutes after the church closed I had nothing better to do than wander. The last of the tourist had left and the place was near empty , but for a few Japanese tourists who came after the church closed. The caretaker saw me wandering around and told me that the church was closed for the day and I should come back tomorrow.

The beautiful women photographed here is the keeper and care taker of the Church. She sits in her small room just opposite to the church entrance and spends most of her time helping people who come looking for Abu Serga. Her wall has images of Jesus , Marry and Luke painted in coptic art and her little room has a table were two of her friends sit and give her company.

She asked me if I was Egyptian (Inti Masr?)and when I said no (la) - then India came up and I graciously nodded. She asked me if I was Coptic. I still haven't found the right Arabic word for atheist and It is hard to explain to some one that I was born in a liberal Hindu household and then renounced religion. (Blasphemy!!!)

The word that comes close is kafir meaning "rejecter". It refers to a person who does not recognize God (Allah) or the prophethood of Muhammed (i.e., any non-Muslim). Kafir translates to infidel in English. I wasn't sure if I said Kafir that would sit well with a Coptic care taker. Though all Coptic Christians speak Arabic , I wasn't sure to what extent they used words that had a strong Islamic doctrinal undertone. Saying kafir was surely out of the question. Then she quickly asked if I was Muslim - I shook my head vehemently. Buddhist maybe ? Then I finally gave up and said yes when asked if I was Jewish.

Then she showed me her tattooed wrist , a reaffirmation of her Coptic faith. There can be a lot of things lost in translation when two people communicate using borrowed words from a language that is alien to them. Yet it is not the language that communicates, but a willingness for a dialogue. Since the moment I saw her, all I could think was how beautiful she was and how there was something about her face that was so familiar and warm. I politely asked if I could photograph her and she agreed.

I said my goodbyes and she reminded me to come back another day when the church was open. "Your Jewish - come back for Ben Ezra", were her parting words for me.
A
I smiled :)

Modern Murals - Writing on the Wall

2008-05-09T00:34:00.004+03:00

Off Muhammad Mahmoud , Down town - Cairo

Off Ansar street, Mohandiseen - Cairo

Work in progress : Images from Lines of Grey , Cairo

2008-05-07T00:07:00.003+03:00

Mangok , Alfrid and Chol wait by the street Egyptian pizzeria for our lunch
This was shoot soon after the Lines of Grey photography workshop ...

House by the mountain

2008-05-02T16:30:00.001+03:00

The eyes of Fatima

2008-05-01T22:44:00.002+03:00

The lighting is harsh and the shadows around Fatima's eyes don't add much to the image. The picture has many technical imperfections but I like it.

The image was shot on the beaches of Nuweba, Sinai. Fatima with three others like her sell scarf's, jewellery and trinkets to the tourists who populate the beaches.

I asked her how old she was in my broken Arabic. "Ana - arba wa ishreen, Inti ?" (I am 24, you?). "Arabaeen" (40), she replied.
I wasn't surprised , I knew her face was not the true mirror her age. Her eyes and wrinkles spoke of a life spent under the umbrella of harsh sunlight.

If I had taken this image a few decades ago .. I would have most probably remarked, her face has so much character.

Swinging by the moon light , Attaba (Cairo)

2008-04-30T23:55:00.001+03:00

what does a girl have to do get some respect around here ?

2008-04-29T21:38:00.001+03:00

....give her a gun that is

(children playing in the beaches of Nuweba , Sinai)

Cairo Metro

2008-04-24T20:43:00.001+02:00

camel market

2008-04-19T17:23:00.000+02:00

Souq al-Gamaal, or the camel market in Birquash just outside Cairo has over hundreds of camels that had been driven across the shifting sands from Libya, Sudan, Somalia..

Jimmy Carter at The American University , Cairo

2008-04-18T00:02:00.000+02:00

Jimmy Carter was AUC today, a former American President he won the 2002 Nobel Peace Prize for promoting peaceful solutions to conflicts and social and economic justice.We stood a good half hour outside Ewart hall and waited another half hour inside the stadium before Cater walked into the Ewart Hall to a standing ovation.

His lecture was rather short , but he fondly remembered his good friend Sadat (former Egyptian President) and the Camp David negotiations where he brokered peace between Egypt and Israel in 1978.His statement " I am immune to the rule that no one should talk to Hamas" , brought another round of applause. The predominantly Arab and a liberal expatriate population that made up the audience , seemed to agree with his opinion that to engage in a peace process it is essential to engage Hamas that was elected by the Palestinian people in 2006.

Hamas won 2006 Palestinian parliamentary elections and ousted forces loyal to President Mahmoud Abbas from the Gaza Strip in June. By meeting with Hamas officials, Carter went against the policy of the Bush administration, which says the group must be sidelined until it recognizes Israel and ends violence, and ignored Israeli objections. Carter's negotiation seems sensible and brings a certain honesty and pragmatism to the Middle East peace process. The American deadline for peace in Middle East expired 3 years ago and alienating Hamas has not made the talks any easier.

With an amused expression , Carter mentioned that when he landed in Israel he was expecting a warm welcome , since he had brokered the Israle - Egypt peace process almost 30 years ago. Instead he said the politicians refused to talk to him.

The Bush administration fails to understand the fundamental principle that you can not punish a population for electing a party they seem fit to rule them. No matter how flawed the party may appear to you. If that rule applied , most politicians wouldn't be in power.

During lecture Carter retriated the fact that , United States politics is biased in its blind support to Israel and there is no balance political debate.

The presidential candidates do not speak about it or if they do make a statements like the one that Obama made today. Barack Obama today criticized Jimmy Carter for meeting with the of Hamas. Obama was clearly trying to reassure Jewish voters not to worry about his candidacy or his support for Israel.

Carter was right again the Israeli mothers , the Palestinian mothers and over 70 percent of the population wants peace It's the politicians , who forget to listen to their people. Immaterial of whether a black man wins or a women wins the candidacy or 80 year old republican wins; inherently they are politicians and their rating come before the realities of ordinary people.

Carter's initiatives are not perfect , but it still seeks to bring a human face to the conflict. It is not diplomacy , but it is his audacity of hope (that Obama so frequently uses) that viable solutions are indeed possible, that makes his endeavours remarkable.

Today I became a fan of a spirited old man's vision of peace and became disappointed with a presidential candidate, who failed to step up to what was right and instead become , yet another politician.

A quater century

2008-04-13T23:52:00.001+02:00

Another year added to the tally and I don’t know what future holds, from Madras to Cairo , en-route enumerable cities, unaccounted memories and a handful of people, I can call as friends. I don’t know what the significance of tomorrow is? My room mates had gone all the way, invited friends and colleagues and celebrated my birthday over the weekend. I was happy that my short stay in Cairo had reaped so many friends.

I don’t know what I celebrated 2 days ago or what a birthday is supposed to be a celebration of. 2000 was the last time I celebrated my birthday with family and I can’t remember when I will be back home to celebrate it again.

My birthday for the longest of time annoyed me. It annoyed me because it fell, exactly a week after the school closed. If you went to school in India , you had a uninspiring uniform and I often felt like a David Copper field than a eager student. The uniforms made us all look like little factory dolls that had nothing unique. But on the day of your birthday, you were allowed to come to school dressed in your birthday dress. For that one day you were special and if you had a nice teacher, she might even get the entire class to sing “happy birthday” for you. For a six year old , missing this celebration year after year , became a important cause of worry. This worry would often manifest around the time my school closed and often vanished just before my birthday. But it was this very reason that my birthday celebrations at home became such an important thing for a six year old

The usual birthday ritual in my house would begin with the purchase of that one special dress that would mark me and my birthday for the year. Actually my mother always got us 2 sets of dresses. One for the morning and the other for the evening.

The day would start off with a hair wash, followed by my mother making my favourite dish – Idli and chicken korma. When I was young my aunt and my cousins would come over and the entire day was a cooking feast starting with breakfast, lunch and dinner. By lunch my mother would have everything prepared. The birthday was about the family, all of us getting together. Back then we stayed in a much smaller house and in much less fancier neighbourhood and my aunts and cousins did not live close by.

On the day of my birthday everyone would promptly arrive around 11 and the whole day was spent in their midst my mother cooking , my aunt helping out, me with my big mouth chattering something, my dad some where in the room. It was a beautiful chaos.

After lunch everyone would sit around or lie down in the massive bed in my parent’s room. My parent’s room was the master bed room and the room where me and my sister slept for a long time. The bedroom had one massive Kingsized bed and a single cot, both put together. During my birthday this room would become the centre of everyone’s activity in the after noon. My mother and her sister would lie down and exchange stories and gossips. My dad would be there, keen on to learn about the gossip but not saying much. I would try to give my expert commentary the matters, my mom and aunt just discussed, often earning me the title of a big mouth. My little sister barley 2 or 3, would lie there looking her cute self. Meanwhile my cousin would sneak out and pick up the cake my mother had ordered for me.

Evening would come and I would religiously get ready. The highlight would be my attempts get my cousin to apply the lipstick on me. My mother never wore any make up and the only grown relative in my family with the lipstick was my cousin Ammu. I would get ready and wait for my presents. When the time to cut the cake arrived, my grand parents would arrive and gathering would be complete.

By the time the day ended, I would be exhausted and go to sleep and my mother would start cleaning up. I was probably only 6 or 7 when these things happened and yet I remember the time with such vivid details.

But things are never the same and change is often the only constant. Ammu got married and left, I grew up and we stopped having those elaborate birthday celebrations. Back then I don’t think I regretted leaving those things behind and growing up. Grown ups don’t celebrate birthdays.

Then we moved to a bigger and a better house in one of wealthiest neighbourhoods in the city. The house was inherited by my mother; it was the house I had partially grown up in. The house I came to visit every weekend to see my aunt, became my permanent residence.

The move was inevitable; our little house could no longer contain our collective dreams and aspirations. I happily traded houses and moved on in life, never realising that once you leave something behind, no matter how little, it is hard to go back in time to retrieve it. In all these years I never thought about those days. To image that it wasn’t so long ago, makes it even harder to let go.

I grew up, finished school , left the country to at seventeen to become my own person. Somehow, to discover who I was , I had to leave my home. Then more things changed. I lost my grandfather in the beginning of 2004 and very little connection I had with my old house was gone.

The house I grew up in , the house were my grandfather lived, the house that housed so many of my childhood memories was now gone. The house is now rented out to other families and I have never gone back to see it. I couldn’t bring my self to see other peoples memories made in the place I once called home.

These thoughts have never touched me before this day and I can’t understand why the eve of turning a quarter century old, I was thinking of a time almost 20 years ago?

I was missing home; I was missing the one thing that had held me together, for all these years – my family. It is only when you are rooted, can you travel without burden, because you always know that you have a home to come back to.

I don’t know if my life so far is worth the celebration , but I know if I don’t celebrate the things that make me who I am, life is going to long train haul with too many regrets. Another new chapter in my life is about to start amidst my middle eastern odyssey, and I can only hope that truly interesting times are down the lane.

outside Al-Hazar Mosque

2008-04-12T22:11:00.000+02:00

a smoke by the mosque

2008-04-12T21:53:00.000+02:00

Lady in black

2008-04-12T21:21:00.000+02:00

I meet her in the same tea shop. First she was averse to the idea to the idea of me taking pictures of her. Then after 3 cups of tea and discussion about Indian movie's, in her Arabic and my broken Arabic, she wanted me to take a picture of her with the television in the background playing an Egyptian movie from the 50's.

Ali in his den

2008-04-04T23:54:00.001+02:00

Tea shop owner Ali in sitting in his den, getting ready to smoke his sheesha in Northern cemetery(Gamaliya).

Amitav Ghosh , Ruy Sanchez and Bahaa Taher

2008-04-04T23:23:00.000+02:00

Three literary gaints decided to descend upon the Diwan bookshop in Zamalek(Cairo). The book shop had organised a book signing session with Amitav Ghosh and Ruy Sanchez, who were both in town to address the Arab Writers forum. After the first hour Bahaa Taher dropped in to meet and greet the guest writers.

Ghosh a Calcutta native and Newyork resident, is considered to be one of the most widely read Indian authors in the world today. His book In An Antique Land, published in 1992 , is a work of fiction, based loosely on biographical and historical events (the subtitle is “History in the Guise of a Traveler’s Tale”). The author traces two stories—first, the experiences of Amitav, a young Indian anthropologist from Oxford, conducting ethnographic fieldwork in an Egyptian village (the character bears obvious similarities to the author, but is never explicitly identified with him). Secondly, the story of a 12th century Jewish merchant, Abraham Ben Yiju, and his slave. Their lives were reconstructed by Amitav using fragments of letters found in an Egyptian synagogue—Ben Yiju, a Tunisian Jew, lived in Egypt for many years before moving to India, where he probably hired his slave, Bomma, who acted as an assistant, traveling and negotiating large trades for Ben Yiju. I was at his AUC guest lecture earlier this week where he shared with the audience the experience of writing, In an Antique land.

When I first read the book in 2002, the book dint leave much of a mark on me then. The book and its contents soon faded away from my memory. Then I saw a flier in the AUC cafeteria announcing a lecture by Amitav Ghosh: The making of - In An Antique Land. So I decided to revisit book before I went to the Lecture.
Unlike my first effort this time the words spoke to me. Maybe it was a comradeship of shared experience. Ghosh had come to Egypt in his twenties and lived in a village near Alexandira. I decided to do the same . The need to travel and see the world had brought us both to his part of the world. The book struck a chord, the book was essentially about a feeling of dislocation. A feeling of trying to belong and not belonging, being rooted and rootless all at once.

Then the lecture happened and at the end I asked him a question during the interactive session. I wanted to know why a sense of dislocation seemed to be a part of all his books ? Was it subconscious ? Did he still fell dislocated? He answered saying dislocation has become my home. That answer summed it all up.

I turned up to the book signing on the 4th and got the book signed by him. He asked if I was Bengali and I said no. "But your name is Bengali' he replied. I smiled and said said off course. By this time he had finished signing the book and I went back to photographing the event.

A few minutes after I got my book singed by Ghosh, I saw Bahaa Taher come in. He had heard that Ghosh and Sanchez were both at the book store and came with his Swiss wife to meet the writers. I had just started reading his Love in Exile a few week ago and was totally smitten when I saw him. I guess it was not just his words but also his life that made him an enigma. At 70, he was still a charmer. Dressed in a impeccable suit, his smile and humour never left him. To top it all off, he was a damn good writer.

Shortly after graduating from the University of Cairo, he started work in Radio 2, the culture channel of the Egyptian Radio. Bahaa was active in the left-wing and avant-garde literary circles of the 1960s and was one of the writers of the Gallery 68 movement. A storyteller and social commentator Taher lost his job in radio broadcasting and was prevented from publishing in the mid 1970s in Sadat's Egypt. In 1981 he chose to leave for Geneva to work as a translator for the United Nations. After many years of exile in Switzerland, he returned recently to Egypt.

I walked up to him and asked if he could sign a copy for me. He smiled and said "ofcourse" and then said asked if I was from India. He said he had been to Delhi , Bombay and Calcutta and that he loved Indians. He asked me where in India I was from, I said Madras and added that he had missed something by not coming down south. He was a little more curious about me than Ghosh and asked what I was doing here in Cairo. " How long are you here ?" he asked with famous smile and I said I am here for another 5 months and then I am travelling around the Middle east. I told him about my plans to backpack around Jordan , Libya , Syria and finally making my way up to Turkey. " Take me with you , it seems like lot of fun" he replied. I smiled back and offered to take him on my Middle Eastern Safari . I always knew I wanted to do this trip , but it wasn't until I spoke to Taher that my plan finally had a start date. I said goodbye and moved on.

I finally spoke to Ruy Sanchez and asked him why all his book talked about desire ? He said all world is made of desire and smiled his beautiful Mexican smile. He said my name was very beautiful and asked me what it meant - I said I means beautiful picture. Your parents must have known he said. I was flattered off course and with a smile in my face, I left the book shop. Hailed a taxi, mouthed Shareya' Sudan and was on my way back home with books singed by all three of them.

4th April 2008 , Cairo

Nayef Hawatmeh at AUC

2008-04-01T09:37:00.000+02:00

Nayef Hawatmeh is a Palestinian politician and one of the founding members of Palestinian Liberation Organisation (PLO).He is the General Secretary of the Marxist Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine (DFLP) since its formation in a 1969 split from the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP), of which he was also a founder. He was active as a left-wing leader in the Arab Nationalist Movement (ANM), which preceded the PFLP.

He was at AUC for the Land day. Land Day , March 30, commemorates the killing of six Arab citizens of Israel on that date in 1976 by the state security forces during protests over Israeli expropriations of Arab land.

A general strike and marches were organized in Arab towns from the Galilee, the Triangle region and the Negev in response to the government's announcement of a plan that would confiscate thousands of dunums of land in Arab areas. The government sent in the Israeli army and police with tanks and heavy artillery. In the ensuing confrontations, six Arab citizens were killed and hundreds of others were jailed and wounded.

Since then, Land Day has become an annual day of commemoration and demonstrations, held not only by Arab citizens of Israel, but by Palestinians all over the world. Nayef was the star of the event, the ultimate rock star, the students looked upto. I cant remember the last time I saw a group of young students so smitten by a politician.

His background as a history professor came through in his speech that placed importance to stating historical facts. His rhetoric was brilliant , but repetitive. It nonetheless dint stop the Palestinian students from giving him a standing ovation.

5 seconds and 2 feet apart

2008-03-26T17:59:00.000+02:00

Bahariya and back

2008-03-23T11:16:00.000+02:00

El-Waha el-Bahariya or Bahariya is an Oasis approximately 300 km away from Cairo. Bahariya consists of many villages of which Bawiti is the largest and the administrative center. Bahariaya is said to be the least developed of the oasis. But still change is visible all over.
The oasis has changed drastically in the past 30 years after an asphalt road connecting Bahariya to Cairo was finished in the early 70s. With the new road came electricity, cars, television, phonelines, and a more accessible route to Cairo. As our guide and hotel owner Badri would put it "A lot has changed in the last ten years. There used to be one bus to Cairo before, now we have 4 buses a day. Before we had very little but life was still better. Now there is everything , but the children are born sick." The language of the Wahati people has also been changed and influenced in new ways as the Cairene dialect is heard on television and in music.
Connectivity also means a boom in tourism, since the Bawati town in Bahariya Oasis is base, for those venturing into the Black and the White dessert.The Oasis is a cross between a charming little village and a dessert dump. Most houses look like ruins from another time - brown , broken , desolate. Then you see a small boy or girl stepping out of the ruins and then it hits you that real people still live here.

Resting by the shade on a road side tea shop on the way back to Cario from Bahariaya. In frame: a few fellow passengers, Nattalie and Martina.

2008-03-18T13:19:00.000+02:00

These are the children from the Lines of Grey, Cairo. I when asked what they wanted to call their photography group, the name Hero's came up. This makes sense .. I wouldn't have called them anything else :)

Public Transport

2008-03-14T15:37:00.000+02:00

After sunday prayers

2008-03-14T14:54:00.000+02:00

Family resting in the compounds of Al-Hazar Mosque after Sunday prayer

Cairo's over crowded buses

2008-03-13T18:35:00.000+02:00

A young mother travels in an over crowed bus with her child sleeping from exhaustion and heat.

The Cairo Public bus in the rush hours can shock and awe most westerners. But the fact that it shocked an Indian is something else. Overcrowded buses and minibuses are still the most common form of transport for the masses. For most lower income house holds taking the bus is pretty much the only option, with the cost of a bus journey costs about 50 piastres (1 sixth of a dollar) it makes sense to take a over crowed bus. Buses here show great resilience, in that they are capable of transporting ten times more load than they meant to.

Down Town

2008-03-13T17:26:00.000+02:00

Cairo's downtown is home to many French style apartment building which was built in Egypt's glory days; once ornate and modern, it has fallen into disrepair. After wealthy residents began moving from downtown Cairo to suburbs like Medinet Nasr and El Mohandiseen in the 1970's, the rooms were gradually taken over by overwhelmingly poor migrants from the Egyptian countryside, arriving in Cairo in the hopes of finding employment. Theses apartments are symbolic of Egypt's urbanisation and of the burgeoning population growth in its large cities in recent decades, especially among the poor and working classes.

The Book The Yacoubian Building , a novel by the Egyptian writer Alaa el-Aswany, is based in one such building. The locale of the novel is downtown Cairo, with the titular apartment building in which most of the primary characters either live or work and in which much of the novel's action takes place. Published in 2002 the book is a scathing portrayal of modern Egyptian society since the 1952 revolution.

My first recommendation would be to actually come to Cairo and experience this electical city, if you cant I suggest you pick up The Yacoubian building and see Cairo through Aswany's eyes :)

Religious Prayer and Japanese tourists

2008-03-10T11:45:00.000+02:00

A group of Egyptian women pray at the Mosque of Mohamed Ali , while group of Japanese tourist look around and take pictures .

The Middle East has been the fastest growing region for tourism during the past decade and this sector has become a vital part of the socio-economic fabric of the region as well as an important component for the livelihoods of its people. Egypt with its Pharonic history, Islamic heritage and Coptic religious monasteries is a popular destination. Though tourism brings in the much needed money to the local economy, it can also cause change or loss of local identity and values, brought about by several closely related influences.

Tourism can turn local cultures into commodities when religious rituals, traditional ethnic rites and festivals are reduced and sanitized to conform to tourist expectations, resulting in what has been called "reconstructed ethnicity." Tourists often, out of ignorance or carelessness, fail to respect local customs and values. When they do, they can bring about irritation and stereotyping. They take a quick snapshot and are gone, and by so acting invade into the everyday lives of people.

bored

2008-03-09T16:02:00.000+02:00

Middle finger

2008-03-07T11:13:00.000+02:00

dea 023" height="660" width="1024">

Sometimes photographers tend to over emphasise their roles as documenters of history. Not just the great events that changed our world, but also those small moments that happen in seclusion. Daily life and decisive moment are now categorical themes that photographers constantly explore. When these moments are being recorded its almost impossible to be that fly on the wall, thanks to the 18-200mm lens that's mounted on a scary SLR. But still we idealise our endeavour and intentions. This image was shot in the Northern cemetery , and the girl showing the middle finger is reminder that sometimes people dont want to become a part of your recorded moments.

Maya & MG

2008-03-05T12:40:00.001+02:00

Northern Cementary , Cairo

2008-03-04T22:37:00.000+02:00

2008-03-04T19:58:00.000+02:00

Street Potraits

2008-03-03T22:28:00.000+02:00

Shot inside the Citadel.

Alhamdulillah (الحمد لله)

2008-03-03T21:55:00.000+02:00

The Arabic scribble on the window says Alhamdulillah (الحمد لله), meaning "Praise to God" or "All praise belongs to God. However the word is misspelt here. The single letter on the top is probably "bha", but I could be wrong. The scribble is probably the little girl practising to write her first few words.

Potraits from the City of the Dead, Cairo

2008-03-01T20:41:00.001+02:00

Egyptians dont call the sprawling cemetery at the eastern edge of Cairo 'City of the Dead.' Only Westerners do. Cairenes prefer to call it simply the arafa, the cemetery,. But what better name than City of the Dead to describe the four-mile-long walled necropolis that now houses thousands of families and countless small businesses? Video stores, car repair shops and tile factories line the main arteries of the cemetery, and cramped buses deliver hoards of commuters at the end of each work day. Furniture makers ply their craft inside tombs and streams of uniformed children parade to and from school, stopping for a quick soccer game between the cenotaphs. The arafa is a necropolis turned metropolis, where the needs of the living have far outpaced the sanctity of the dead. Here, survival takes precedence over superstition, and the impact of overpopulation and overcrowding wears a human face. The cemetery is filled with refugees from Cairo's housing shortage who became homesteaders in a landscape of tombs and mausoleums. Today, some 50,000 people live in tombs while between 500,000 and a million more are cramped into tenement houses where tombs once stood. These people staked their claim in the cemetery when no place else could absorb them, and subsequently they came to prefer the silent company of the dead to the harsh conditions of urban living. Many claim they wouldn't leave even if they had the chance. Today, tombs that were designed to house a single family teem with bare-bottomed children, chickens and goats. Soccer balls fly where the relatives of the deceased used to pay their respects every week, and tattered laundry floats between the cenotaphs, obscuring the names and prayers engraved on weather beaten surfaces. Where horse-drawn carriages used to deliver weekly visitors, sooty buses honk their way down paved roads, and on a once contemplative lane between the tombs, a Friday junk market overflows with the refuse of modern society looking to be reborn.

Serndipity and Idle Mind

2008-03-01T00:30:00.000+02:00

Mohamed Ibrahim (Vocals), Jacques Avakian (Bass), Yousuf (Drums)

There are few things in life that qaulify as serendipity, this is one of those things. Two weeks ago Natalie and I got tickets at the El Sawhey centre and went inside to see a "Hip-Hop falvour" stomp. The stomp was being performed by a friend of a friend and sounded interesting enough to venture out on a friday night. We got our tickets and went inside. We couldnt find our friends, we waited a little longer and wondered if we were in the wrong venue. I quickly asked the person sitting next to me if this was indeed the El Sawhey centre, I was assured it was. Our friends called and informed us that the show is full anf they couldnt get the tickets. We look around a few seats were still empty. We waited a little longer , three guys got on stage and start performing ......

I had just stumbled into a my new favourite band, Idle Mind. It turned out that we got to the right venue , but walked into the wrong concert hall. I guess it was pretty much, one of the best mistakes of my life. When I walked out of the concert hall I decided that Idle-Mind would do the cover and the background score for the "Lines of Grey" documentary film.

That was 2 weeks ago, since then the band has agreed to do the cover and have become my insight into a different Cairo. The upwardly mobile young musician, who come from the upper echelons of Egyptian society , who think and act differently from their not so privileged counter parts. They are also "the other" voice of Cairo , not just by the music they create , but also by the way they perceive their identity. Like their music they are intense and vulnerable at the same time.

Idle mind's website says that "Idle mind was formed in February 2003, main idea among the band members was to create music free of all genre and taste restrictions, stereotypes, and clichés."

Cairo , Street Vice

2008-02-29T23:56:00.001+02:00

Cairo , Street Vice, originally uploaded by La Moreneta.

Shopping at one of the many shops that occupy the noisy , shopping street Talat Harb

Art el Lewa

2008-02-29T23:53:00.001+02:00

cairo.artellewa, originally uploaded by La Moreneta.

The art space artellewa is an independent, non-profit project, initiated by Hamdy Reda Egyptian visual artist) with support from Friends: artists, sociologists, journalists. It was established in January 2007. Artellewa space for contemporary art is located in Ard El Lewa, a residential area in the northwest of Giza, situated west of the railway, which is one of the outskirt-local areas of Greater Cairo.

Through a winding alleyway in Giza, in the rundown neighborhood of Ard El-Lewa, nestled between old buildings is the Artellewa gallery, one of the newest and most talked about art centers in Egypt. On the small rooftop, there's a sensation of pure joy and a carefree attitude. Children here are quieter, focusing on perfecting their drawings and paintings. For more than four months, Artellewa's workshop has given underprivileged children in the area an outlet to express themselves and find their hidden talents.

The workshop is one of many ideas Hamdy Reda, owner and founder of Artellewa, had in mind when opening the gallery earlier this year. "One of the primary goals of Artellewa was to provide artistic services for kids and teenagers in the area"

Ard el Lewa

2008-02-28T17:56:00.000+02:00

Ard el Lewa is a labyrinth of sand roads that house grey concrete buildings. The Bantustans , tuk-tuks (or autos as I would call it), playfully children, vendors of all kind, lazy adolescent boys and a railway track all add to the character of the place. The streets remind me of the criss crossing streets just off El Ravel in Barcelona, where most immigrates live and the grey buildings are a sad reminders of the banlieue (housing projects) of Paris.

Both these images were shot from a the Roof top of the Art space “ Art el Lewa”. The black and white image is my favourite from that day. It has a bunch of young Ard el lewans playing foot ball in a ground that is also used as a garbage dump.

Shambles of Cairo

2008-02-28T17:29:00.001+02:00

Shambles of Cairo, originally uploaded by La Moreneta.

The small alleys of Cairo are filled with interesting artefacts of our time. A run down shell of a car made to stand on the make shift stage !! Why , I wouldn't know !

Coptic Monk

2008-02-28T17:22:00.001+02:00

Coptic Monk, Cairo, originally uploaded by La Moreneta.

Most Christians in Egypt are Copts - Christians descended from the ancient Egyptians.
Their church split from the Eastern Orthodox and Roman Catholic churches in 451AD because of a theological dispute over the nature of Christ, but is now, on most issues, doctrinally similar to the Eastern Orthodox church. Copts remained the a minority in Egypt for centuries after the 7th Century conquest of the country by Muslim armies. Coptic Christians make up 10% of the Egyptian population and have complained of harassment and discrimination. Some Copts argue that previous attacks on them have gone unpunished or have drawn light sentences.

Relations between the authorities and the Coptic minority of Egypt's population - are generally calm. In the modern age, they complain of discrimination in the workplace, restrictions on church construction and periodic fears that Christians are being forced to convert by Islamic extremists. Many of Egypt's Coptic church members are worried about the growth of Islamic fundamentalism in the country.

2006 election gains by candidates from the opposition Muslim Brotherhood are worrying Copts, since the brotherhood has long wanted the imposition of Islamic Sharia Law

Early this month (4th Febuary)) an Egyptian judge has rejected the unprecedented case brought forward by convert Mohammed Hegazy, who was suing the Egyptian Interior Ministry for the right to change his religion from Islam to Christianity on his official identification. Judge Muhammad Husseini ruled last week that it was only lawful to convert to Islam, and not to another religion. Hegazy’s lawyers told that the judge argued in his ruling that Islam is the final and most complete religion, therefore to convert to a religion that preceded Islam is to insult the “great religion” and it cannot be allowed.

The judgment was based on Article 2 of the Egyptian Constitution which establishes shari’a law as “the primary source of legislation”. Under traditional Islamic jurisprudence, apostasy, or converting from Islam, is punishable by death. Although Egyptian law does not criminalise conversion, in practice converts from Islam to another religion often face legal barriers and risk serious harassment, including torture at the hands of the security police.

Street potraits

2008-02-28T16:47:00.001+02:00

cairo 035, originally uploaded by La Moreneta.

Two brother play by the street light , outside their make little make shift house. In one of the alley ways behind Talat Harb.

Sudanese Poetry Night

2008-02-27T17:21:00.001+02:00

Sudanese Poetry Night, originally uploaded by La Moreneta.

Abas is a Sudanese refugee now living in Cairo. He is a Composer, song writer and a guitarist. This image was shot on the Sudanese poetry night on the 14th of Febuary, when he played a few of his compositions.

Cairo Street potraits

2008-02-27T17:17:00.001+02:00

Cairo Street potraits, originally uploaded by La Moreneta.

Town House Gallery, painting workshop, Cairo

2008-02-27T17:02:00.001+02:00

Town House Gallery, painting workshop, Cairo, originally uploaded by La Moreneta.

Cairo Street Potraits

2008-02-27T17:00:00.001+02:00

Cairo Street Potraits, originally uploaded by La Moreneta.

Cairo , Sky line

2008-02-27T16:18:00.001+02:00

Cairo , Sky line, originally uploaded by La Moreneta.